


Burn Across the Sky

by MoonytheMarauder1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Matchmaking, Exasperated Hermione Granger, Gay Oliver Wood, Gay Percy Weasley, Harry Is Oblivious, Humor, Injury, M/M, Protective Siblings, Quidditch, Secret Relationship, Siblings, The Hospital Wing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25089058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonytheMarauder1/pseuds/MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Suddenly, Oliver stopped speaking. His brown eyes had locked onto something on the other end of the Quidditch Pitch, and a grin overtook his features—completely unlike the serious scowl that had been sitting there before.Wide-eyed with shock, the Gryffindor Quidditch team turned as one to find the source of Oliver's distraction. The only thing that could have caused it, however, was the person walking briskly past the stands, a stack of books in his arms and a worn Gryffindor scarf wrapped snugly around his neck: Percy Weasley.Harry turned around just in time to watch Fred, George, and Ron's jaws drop as one. The three Weasleys glanced from their captain to their brother, then back again.Fred was the first to speak. "You'reshittingme," he breathed.o.o.oOr,When Oliver Wood stops talking about Quidditch to stare at Percy Weasley, Ron, Fred, and George know something is up.
Relationships: Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 37
Kudos: 902





	Burn Across the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! So... I wasn't even sure I'd post this here, but it received such a positive response on ffn that I thought, why not? So. Without further ado, enjoy some Perciver.

It was one week before the big match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and Oliver Wood was drilling his team unlike ever before—which was saying something, considering the seventh year lived and breathed Quidditch.

Every member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team felt the pressure. Harry didn't normally mind flying, but he'd spent so much time up in the air recently that he wished the upcoming game would hurry up and arrive, if only so he could have his feet on solid ground for something other than classes.

He wasn't the only one sick of it; Fred and George Weasley plotted Wood's murder after every practice in the change rooms. They were getting more and more creative, and Harry wasn't sure whether he should be amused or concerned for Wood's safety.

Thankfully, though, his captain called them down from the air after two hours of practice.

"You're good flyers," Oliver told them as soon as their feet touched the ground, "but so is the Ravenclaw team. We need to shake things up, surprise them. They know how we fly; let's show them what we can _do_."

There was a collective groan from the team. "What the hell have we been doing, then?" Fred asked indignantly. "I don't know about the rest of this lot, but I've been busting my ass with your new plays—"

"Oliver." Angelina cut Fred off, stepping forwards. There was sweat soaking her brow and shortness of breath in her voice that gave away her exhaustion, but she stood tall with her broom over her shoulder, exuding a confidence and authority that even Oliver would listen to. "We've practiced for hours each day, is what Fred's saying. We've tried your new plays, memorized them, and, frankly, I've learned more maneuvers this week than I have in my last five years of being on the team. We're _ready_."

Oliver's brow creased as he considered her words. Finally, he said, "We can't just slack off. We think we're ready, but if we let our guard down, it'll be the _Ravenclaws_ that—"

Suddenly, Oliver stopped speaking. His brown eyes had locked onto something on the other end of the Quidditch Pitch, and a grin overtook his features—completely unlike the serious scowl that had been sitting there before.

Wide-eyed with shock, the Gryffindor Quidditch team turned as one to find the source of Oliver's distraction. The only thing that could have caused it, however, was the person walking briskly past the stands, a stack of books in his arms and a worn Gryffindor scarf wrapped snugly around his neck: Percy Weasley.

Harry turned around just in time to watch Fred, George, and Ron's jaws drop as one. The three Weasleys glanced from their captain to their brother, then back again.

Fred was the first to speak. "You're _shitting_ me," he breathed.

* * *

"I can't believe it," Ron told Harry and Hermione for the fourteenth time as they made their way back to the castle.

Hermione, who had chosen to stay in the stands as Harry practiced—unlike Ron, who liked to be as near to the action as he could get when he came to support Harry—wasn't quite up-to-date on _what_ Ron couldn't believe, and had clearly had enough of guessing. "Ronald," she snapped, "either explain yourself or _stop repeating yourself._ "

Ron, though, was too dazed to even be annoyed with her. "Hermione," he whimpered, "Wood likes my brother. My. Brother."

This information actually stopped Hermione in her tracks, and Harry and Ron nearly stumbled into her. "Which brother?" she asked. "Fred? George?"

"No!" Ron said, clearly in distress. He ran his hands through his red hair, his breathing heavy. "That would make more sense!"

Harry didn't say anything as Hermione's brow furrowed. "Charlie?" she asked slowly.

Ron shook his head. "He doesn't even go here anymore."

"Who, then?"

Ron just shook his head again, so Harry cut in. "Percy," he answered. He cast a curious glance at his best mate, a bit confused. "I'm not sure why this is so… terrible, though."

"I'm not saying it's _terrible_ ," Ron corrected him, sounding very much like he thought it was, "I'm saying it's barmy. Really, this is the final proof that Wood has lost his mind. Who would like _Percy_?"

"Really, Ron." Hermione shot him a disapproving look. "That's not very nice. Percy is a model student, he's smart—"

"He's boring," Ron interrupted. "And he's a git."

When Ron's blue eyes found Harry's in search of support, Harry could only shrug. "Wood clearly doesn't think he's boring."

"And that," came a voice from behind the trio, "is exactly why we need to make sure that this little infatuation of Oliver's is realized."

Harry turned to see Fred and George making their way over. They wore identical grins, which usually meant that they were up to no good. Harry found himself biting his lip; he wasn't overly fond of Percy, but he wasn't sure that the older Weasley deserved whatever his brothers had in mind.

"What do you mean?" Ron demanded. "Why should we do that?"

"Oh, ickle Ronniekins," Fred said with a sigh, draping an arm over Ron's shoulder and ignoring his brother's attempts to push him off, "don't you see? There is someone in this world that is attracted to Percy's booksmarts and strict rule-following. Someone we actually like—even if he can be a bit uptight about Quidditch practice. When will an opportunity like this ever come again?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged doubtful looks as Ron spluttered. "You want us to help you set them up?"

"Bingo," George quipped. "Maybe they can help each other. Oliver can help Percy loosen up—"

"—and Percy can help Oliver realize that driving his team into the ground before a match is not actually going to help their performance," Fred finished. "So, what do you lot say?"

"Should we really be getting involved?" Hermione asked quietly. "I don't think Percy would appreciate our meddling. And besides, how do you even know he'd be happy with Wood?"

"Well…" The twins exchanged glances. "We don't. But you don't know until you try, do you?"

Ron shoved Fred away from him. "Percy will _kill_ us," he said. "And in case you've forgotten, he's seventeen now. He'll be able to do anything to us this summer if he wants revenge!"

Harry frowned a little. Maybe this was a sibling thing that he couldn't understand, but he didn't actually see the problem in letting Percy and Oliver figure things out for themselves. Or not; there was no requirement that they actually get together.

Honestly, what surprised him more than anything was the fact that Oliver was intrigued enough by Percy that he'd stopped speaking about Quidditch. In his three years on the team, he'd never seen Wood distracted from an upcoming game by anything—not pain, or injury, or even threat of death.

On second thought, this might be more serious than Harry had originally anticipated.

"I think you should just leave them be," Hermione said firmly. "Ron, don't bother your brother; you can't force him to like someone. And it's not fair that you're speaking about him so poorly," she added, sending a glare the twins' way.

Fred and George had the good sense to look mildly remorseful. Ron just shrugged uncomfortably, but he grudgingly ceded her point.

"Let's just let Wood be," he told his brothers. "The big game is only a week away; you won't have to deal with his mania for much longer. Percy's too engrossed in his NEWTs to be a good participant in any schemes, anyway."

Fred and George both nodded at that. "I suppose you're right," George admitted slowly. "But if this doesn't blow over soon, we'll have to get involved. Those two wouldn't recognize a crush if it hit them with a bludger."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Neither would you," he muttered under his breath, his eyes, following Angelina as she made her way past them into the castle.

Fred frowned sharply. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

* * *

That night, Ron lied awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep, which was unusual; he'd never before experienced such serious insomnia.

Something about the day's events was bothering him. Wood clearly liked his brother—more than liked, it seemed like—but why should he care about who thought his brother was attractive?

Angelina liked George, after all. That much was clear. And he suspected that Katie had her eyes on Fred. This nervousness wasn't present when he thought about those feelings.

Why was Percy different?

Ron sighed heavily and rolled out of bed reluctantly. He padded quietly over to Harry's trunk and rummaged around until he found what he was looking for: the Marauder's Map. He doubted Harry would mind if he borrowed it for a bit, so he grasped it tightly in his hand, retrieved his wand, and then headed down into the common room.

As soon as he was settled into one of the armchairs, Ron pointed his wand at the map. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered, touching the tip of his wand to the old parchment.

Immediately, a map of Hogwarts appeared before him. None of the dots were moving because of the late hour; only Ron's dot and Filch and Mrs. Norris' were out of place.

He scanned the map until he found the two names he was looking for: Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood. They were next to each other; they must have neighboring beds, Ron realized with a start. Why had he never wondered if they slept near each other? Until today, he wasn't even sure that he'd fully realized that they were in the same year, or really knew each other.

But they did.

Ron stared at the two dots for a while. Were Oliver and Percy friends? Did they talk outside of school?

Had Percy ever seen Oliver as something more than a roommate?

Ron wasn't sure, but he wasn't going to find an answer by staring at a map so early in the morning. He shivered, realizing how cold he was, and decided to head back to bed. There really wasn't any point in stressing about this, he told himself firmly. Like Hermione had said, Percy and Oliver could do what they wanted. He didn't need to be losing sleep over it.

* * *

The next morning, Harry noticed that Ron was distracted. His friend's eyes kept traveling over to where Percy sat holding a fork in one hand and a thick book that Harry was certain wasn't required reading in the other. He wasn't anywhere near Oliver, and he certainly wasn't looking in the Quidditch captain's direction.

But Ron seemed to think that he was going to catch him in the act.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat. "Mate," he began carefully, "I don't think he's going to move for a while."

Ron jumped, startled. He shoved a sausage in his mouth, chewed and swallowed, and then answered Harry. "I'm not—I'm not watching him to see if he moves."

Harry just raised his brows, unconvinced. Hermione would be down for breakfast at any moment, he realized, and she wouldn't put up with this behavior. "Ron, I really don't get it," he admitted. "You didn't care this much when Percy was dating Penelope Clearwater, did you?"

To Harry's confusion, though, this seemed to make Ron relieved. "You're right," Ron muttered. "He dated Penelope Clearwater. So he can't like Wood, can he?"

Harry stared at him. "I… don't think that's how that works."

"Maybe for Percy?" Ron suggested hopefully.

"Hopefully what for Percy?"

Harry and Ron turned to see Fred and George settling down beside them. Like Ron, the twin's had dark bruises under their eyes; they hadn't slept well either, then.

Ron sighed. "I thought maybe… Percy couldn't like Wood if he liked Penelope."

George stared at him blankly. "Why not?"

Ron just slumped in his seat. He miserably pushed his eggs around with his fork, and the sight honestly worried Harry; Ron was usually ravenous at breakfast. Fred and George weren't any better.

"Look," Harry said suddenly, "I don't really understand what's going on with you three, but why are you so concerned about Percy? He's fine. You don't even know for sure if Wood likes him!"

The Weasleys stared at him, and Harry felt his face warm. "Well, you don't," he muttered.

"On the contrary, Mr. Potter," Fred said dryly, "we do. The look on Wood's face was definitely love. He's completely lovestruck. Head-over-heels."

"And you're obsessed with that _because?_ "

The boys all turned to see Hermione standing behind them, her hands on her hips. She shot the brothers a glare and moved to sit beside Harry. As she served herself breakfast, she spoke through clenched teeth.

"If Wood actually does like him, then that's good for Percy. If you try and force him into a relationship, it will make him feel like you're making fun of him—and I'm not convinced that you're not!"

Fred, George, and Ron all shared a look. "'Mione," Ron said slowly, "we're not trying to poke fun at him."

"Really?" Hermione asked hotly. "It seems to me that by saying it's so shocking that someone you 'actually like' wants to be with him, you're saying that he isn't deserving of that affection!"

"It's not that he doesn't deserve it!" Fred dragged a hand through his hair. He shot a frustrated glance at the younger Gryffindor. "Hermione, you don't have any siblings, do you?"

"No," she said immediately, "but that doesn't mean—"

"It does," George interrupted. "It's sort of our job to make sure that Percy ends up with someone who's going to help him, not hurt him."

Both Harry and Hermione frowned sharply. "Hurt him?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Wood isn't going to—"

"We don't know that!" Ron blurted out. Then his blue eyes widened. "Oh, Merlin. Am I worried for Percy?" He turned to his brothers for confirmation, both of whom nodded sagely. "Bugger," Ron muttered.

"We need," George said, "to put Oliver to the test. Is he Weasley material?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. "They're not getting married!" she spluttered. "And I still don't think this is any of your business!"

Fred just pressed his lips together. "We'll see about that."

* * *

And it might have ended there, Harry thought with regret, if they hadn't seen Oliver holding Percy's books between classes.

"What the _hell_." Ron's eyes were wider than Harry had ever seen them. "He doesn't let anyone touch his stuff! I should know; I've tried!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed the backs of Harry and Ron's robes so she could steer them on their way. "Maybe he just trusts Wood not to tamper with them. I wouldn't blame him!"

But Ron wasn't listening. His gaze was glued on Percy and Oliver.

Harry looked over too and realized that there was a slight flush coloring Percy's face. The older Weasley stopped in front of a classroom and took the bag and books back from Oliver, whose grin covered his face.

Their fingers brushed. Harry wondered if they weren't already—but no. Ron, surely, would have known.

He eyed his friend carefully. "Why are you so much more protective this time than last?"

Ron shrugged helplessly. "I guess… I guess Clearwater didn't stand a chance."

"And Wood does?"

Ron was gaping at the scene in front of him. "He looks happy."

"Come _on_ ," Hermione snapped. Her dark eyes were narrowed into slits, but Harry wondered if she was trying to get them away from Percy for the reasons she claimed. He raised a brow at her, and she bit her lip—definitely a sign that she knew more than she was letting on.

"Yeah, Ron," he said, grabbing his friend's shoulder, "we'll be late."

Ron let himself be steered away, but he kept glancing over his shoulder at his brother.

* * *

The rest of the week went by like that. The trio—and Fred and George—would witness a quick moment between Percy and Oliver, and then the three brothers would get together and discuss what this could mean.

But it wasn't until the match against Ravenclaw that they had any proof to their theory that there was more to Percy and Oliver's relationship than met the eye.

It started out innocently enough, until Fred spotted Percy in the stands.

"Merlin," Fred breathed, "he's let someone paint his face red and gold."

"No way," George muttered, shoving his brother so he could peer out of the change room window. "He's never done that before!"

"Gryffindor pride?" Harry suggested weakly.

The look on the twins' faces clearly stated that they doubted that Percy would have a sudden rush of Gryffindor pride in one of the last matches of his Hogwarts career.

Just then, Oliver came into the change room. He was beaming, his usual pre-game scowl nowhere in sight.

"Okay, team!" he called out, getting everyone's attention. "Let's see you all do your best today! We've prepared for every possible occurrence, and I'm certain we'll win this." He set his hands on his hips and looked each of them in the eye one-by-one. "You're all fantastic flyers. The Ravenclaw team won't know what hit them."

Harry, just like the rest of the team, waited for the customary threats the team usually received in the event that they lost—but there was no guilt trip. There was no reminder that this was one of the last matches Oliver would captain, no reminder of how badly he wanted to take home the Quidditch Cup—he just grabbed his broom and waved for everyone to follow him.

"Is he ill?" Harry heard Katie whisper to Angelina.

The Weasley twins shared a stony look. "Extremely," they told her gravely.

But they needn't have worried; the match went by without a hitch. The Ravenclaw team was excellent, but the Gryffindors had put in many extra hours of rigorous training, and it had paid off. Oliver beamed throughout the entire match, and he rarely let the quaffle slip past his fingers.

Harry, of course, flew above most of the action, keeping careful attention to the scoreboard. He couldn't catch the snitch until they were sixty points ahead, Oliver had told him. Sixty points.

Still, Harry scanned the area for the golden ball. He kept one eye on the Ravenclaw seeker; not Cho Chang, thankfully, but a stand-in. Harry wouldn't be distracted.

And then they were up by seventy points, and the search was _really_ on.

Harry flew around the arena, his green eyes narrowed behind his glasses. As he soared past the stands, he noticed that Percy's gaze was fixed firmly by the goalposts. Harry hid a smile and kept looking.

After a few minutes passed, he was growing a little anxious. There was absolutely no sign of the snitch—he hadn't seen it at all during the game. Normally he'd have caught some sign of it, even if he lost it immediately after.

Harry glanced over at the Ravenclaw seeker; he hadn't seen the ball either. Harry kept flying, his eyes roaming over the field—

There!

It was hovering by Oliver's leg. Harry leaned forwards onto his broom, picking up speed, just as one of the opposing chasers headed towards the Gryffindor keeper.

Oliver's eyes widened, but to his credit, he held his ground even as two people hurtled towards him. Harry reached out a hand to catch the snitch, very aware that the other seeker was hot on his trail, and that the Ravenclaw chaser was trying to use their near-collision to her advantage.

But Oliver didn't move, even as the snitch positioned itself directly in front of his chest.

Now Harry was nervous. His firebolt was nimble enough—and he was skilled enough—to avoid crashing into his captain, but he didn't have the same faith in the other two players. Judging by the nervous murmuring from the stands, the crowd wasn't so sure either.

Harry _really_ hoped that Oliver's speeches about being ready to die for the sport had just been dramatics.

There was a choice to make here: the snitch or the quaffle. In most Quidditch players' minds, the snitch would be the obvious choice; sacrifice the opportunity to save the quaffle from going through the goalpost, but catch the snitch and win the match.

Oliver Wood would not lose even ten points off his lead, though. He was very stubbornly making a third option.

Harry's fingers closed around the snitch, and he dove downwards, narrowly avoiding Oliver. The Ravenclaws didn't stop, though; the seeker was going too quickly to stop in time, and the chaser threw the quaffle at Oliver, expecting him to swerve out of the way of the seeker and thus miss the catch.

But he caught it. And he let the seeker crash into him.

* * *

"Oliver Wood," Alicia Spinnet growled as the Gryffindor Quidditch team (along with Ron and Hermione) rushed to the hospital wing, "is the stupidest, most reckless person in existence."

"It was sort of impressive, though, wasn't it?" Fred asked. When he received glares from a majority of the team, he hastened to add, "But stupid. Very, very stupid. Imbecilic, even."

Fortunately for Fred, they'd arrived at the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey appeared in the doorway and told them very firmly that if she was to let all of them in, they needed to be calm and quiet—lest she kick them out. They all impatiently agreed, and she stepped aside to let them in.

The Gryffindors raced to Wood's beside, but stopped in their tracks when they realized someone was already there.

His face still painted crimson and gold, his chestnut jumper sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and one hand tightly gripping Oliver's, Percy Weasley sat in the visitor's chair looking simultaneously pissed-off and concerned.

Harry's green eyes widened, and he glanced at Hermione. She just shrugged helplessly; it seemed that Percy and Oliver's secret was about to come out, then.

"Percy?" Ron gaped at his older brother. "What are you doing here?"

Percy's brows shot up; he looked mildly annoyed. "Making sure my idiot boyfriend didn't do any permanent damage to himself, obviously."

" _Boyfriend?_ " Fred crossed his arms. "We thought Wood liked you!"

Percy and Oliver—who had woken up just in time to hear the last bit of the conversation—looked at him with confusion.

"Yes," Percy said slowly, "that's generally how these things work."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Hermione muttered. She turned on her heel so she was facing the three younger Weasleys. "They've been dating; this isn't a case of unrequited love. They've been together since the beginning of the year, probably."

She glanced at Percy and Oliver for confirmation, and Wood piped up, "Since last year, actually."

"Yes, well." Hermione cleared her throat. "I do hope you three aren't going to be odd about this; I was hoping you'd get over whatever possessive nonsense has been driving you mad this past week before you found out the truth."

At her words, Ron's expression turned sheepish. Fred and George, however, turned narrowed eyes towards Oliver.

"Percy, do you mind if we just ask Oliver here a few questions—"

"Absolutely _not_ ," Percy interrupted, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Merlin, and I thought Bill and Charlie would be bad. Do _not_ give any speeches to Oliver; I can assure you that I'm more than capable of putting him in his place should the need arise."

Oliver's brown eyes were wide as he nodded, full of both awe and fear. "It's true. And you lot think I'm scary!"

Harry couldn't hide a grin as Fred and George protested that they needed to do their duty as Percy's siblings, never mind that Oliver was in a hospital bed. Ron was looking between the twins and Percy as though debating which side he should choose, but ultimately began to slide towards Percy; a wise decision. Percy's brows were drawn, as though he was cross, but Harry could see the hesitant appreciation that his brothers had tried to look out for him—however clumsily—in his eyes.

And all the while, Percy's fingers remained laced with Oliver's.


End file.
